Twilight
by Irena K
Summary: Prequel to 'Night.' Something is killing the colonists in cold storage... Part Three: Rem faces both inner and outer demons. Epilogue: A minor philosophical disagreement.  ::Crossover - Complete::
1. Prologue:  What You are, What's to Come

Disclaimer: They belong to Whedon and Nightow. I worship. I grovel.

Author's note: Six months on this fic. And it's still not quite done. But when one romps through the Trigun and Buffy universes in an attempt to stay within canon while taking a hacksaw to the various sacred truths in said universes, one's left feeling a bit…overwhelmed.

Plus, "Seeing Red" aired last spring and boy, did *that* completely kill my muse for a good three months. Luckily, after revealing that she was an in-the-closet slasher and had an affinity for eighties pop partnered with romantic comedy, she finally got off her duff and started inspiring again. Go her. And gosh, it's fun writing about parts of my psyche in third person.

I suggest reading "Night" first. Not entirely necessary but there are certain events that take place here that are alluded to there. Besides, shameless plug! Huzzah! Either way, enjoy. I'm sure I'll have more ramblings to share with you when it's all over.

Time line: Roughly four months prior to the events in "Rem Saverem"

Rated PG-13 for violence and language.

TWILIGHT

PROLOGUE 

__

The First faces the edge of the cliff, tense and wary even at rest. The barest hint of danger, of wickedness and the First will attack.

She walks towards her across the desert plain, feet shuffling against grit and dirt, letting the First know she approaches. She comes within a dozen feet and stops, takes a breath. A look back to where she came from, as though to confirm her presence here. Sand as far as the eye can see and on the far horizon, dusty mountains without snow. Two suns hang low in the sky above her. That should be wrong but she cannot shake the feeling that it was always thus.

She thinks, There are no flowers here.

The First turns, eyes black as night piercing her to her very soul.

what is it you wish daughter _The First's lips do not move but she can hear the words all the same._ _She steps closer_.

__

"It's time."

The First nods and crouches, scooping up wet clay in one browned roughened hand. yes it is are you ready

__

Sudden fear and she fights the urge to flee as the First moves towards her in a strange, loping gait. "No. Does it matter?"

no

__

The First takes clay on two fingers and begins painting the raven-haired woman's face, yellow, brittle nails leaving feathered scratches on her cheek. The First's touch is cool, yet it burns against her flesh. It is the most delicate of pleasures, the greatest of pains. It is life and death made one.

She wishes to scream, to escape, to deny but instead she leans further into the First's hand, eyes closed in ecstasy…

***

Within her cryopod, Rem muttered and shifted but did not wake. Yet even within that deep, unnatural sleep, she knew that nothing would ever be the same.

END PROLOGUE


	2. Part One: Out of the Mouths of Babes

PART ONE

Morning broke over the command ship of Project SEEDS. Up until seven months earlier, Captain Joseph Adams would have been the first to wake, followed by Rem, then Mary, Steve and Rowan in varying order. The five crewmembers would usually shuffle into the galley, sleepy-eyed and yawning, to prepare breakfast and review the schedule for the day. Occasionally they would meet the man called Angel on his way to bed after night watch, often carrying a mug of thick, red liquid he claimed was a protein drink to supplement his diet. No one except Rem knew any different and she wasn't about to say anything about it one way or another.

This, of course, was before the boys came.

"Rem! Rem! Rem!"

Twin voices roused her from dreams of a sunlit city she had never been to. Rem blinked once, twice, three times before rolling over and meeting two pairs of wide, guileless eyes.

"Angel's making breakfast!" Knives announced, looking proud to be the one to deliver that information.

"He promised donuts," Vash added, bouncing on the soles of his feet either because he was terribly excited or because he was in dire need of the toilet, Rem wasn't sure which.

She covered a yawn with one hand. "He did, did he?"

Vash nodded. "Yeah! Said it was a special family recipe and *everything*!"

Rem placed a finger on her chin as though thinking it over. "I don't know. Those donuts are *awfully* sugary."

"But Rem-"

"Hardly appropriate for two growing boys. No, we'll have to get you something much healthier for breakfast." The twins' faces fell in dismay. "How does cabbage and liver sound?" Their shocked expressions at this announcement were priceless. She grinned. "Just kidding."

"Rem!"

They immediately pounced on the bed and proceeded to tickle her mercilessly, an effective torture technique they'd learned from Mary only the week before. Rem giggled and responded in turn.

It was, she thought, a most pleasant way to begin a morning.

***  


  
  
Ten minutes and much wrestling later, Rem arrived at the galley, Vash slung around her shoulders in a piggyback and Knives pouting beside her because he couldn't fit next to his brother.

The fresh-baked smell of cinnamon and spice greeted them as they walked through the door. Angel, a young-looking man with short brown hair and an easy smile, waved at them over a mug of coffee. "Morning, guys."

"Good morning," Rem answered, letting Vash slide off her back. "Heard you were cooking today."

"Frying, to be exact." He pointed towards a long breakfast table against the far wall where coffee and donuts rested. "Help yourself."

The twins took off at breakneck speed, pausing only to tussle briefly over the first donut before loading up their plates and heading for the table. As they reached for their food without a sign of manners, Rem cleared her throat. "Boys, what do you say?"

Hands paused, they sheepishly looked up at Angel and chorused, "Thank you for the donuts, Mister Angel."

The corners of Angel's eyes crinkled up but he managed to keep a straight face. "You're very welcome."

The two boys gave Rem a pleading look. She laughed and waved them on. "Okay, okay, eat."

The signal given the boys fell upon their food as if they hadn't eaten in weeks. Rem made a mental note to brush up on their table manners as she walked over to the coffeepot. She took a cursory sniff, grimaced, and decided to have some tea instead. Angel, while a surprisingly good cook considering his dietary habits, was only capable of making coffee one way: strong and thick as sludge. She supposed it didn't matter if you had deadened taste buds but that rendered it nigh undrinkable for everyone else.

Cup filled with earl grey, she snagged a pastry before sitting down next to Angel, nibbling daintily and watching the twins eat. She nudged Angel. "Do all boys eat like that?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You never noticed?"

"Well, I have, but," she shrugged, "guess I never paid that much attention when I wasn't the one providing the food."

"Technically, you still aren't the one providing the food."

"True, but I'm the one responsible for them eating it." She shook her head. "No wonder Mom vowed to never have any more boys."

They fell silent until Vash and Knives became engrossed in a discussion regarding yesterday's lessons (Vash understood the literature, but was having trouble with the math). Angel leaned into Rem and spoke sotto voice. "You missed our meeting last night."

She shifted, eyes refusing to meet his. "The boys kept me late and then I had some work to finish."

He frowned. "You can't keep avoiding it."

"I know, I just…" Her gaze flicked to the twins, still absorbed in their animated discourse. "This isn't easy for me."

"I understand." He placed a large, cool hand over her pale one, squeezing lightly. "We should still talk."

"I know," Rem repeated, breaking contact as Mary came through the door. "Later."

Mary yawned and smiled sleepily at their little gathering. "Morning, all." She sniffed then glanced at the buffet, face lighting up. "Oh! Donuts!"

The brown-haired doctor piled four pastries onto her plate, making Rem wonder how she ever kept that slim figure. She shuffled over to the table, plopping down next to Vash with a contented sigh. Unlike Rem, who always tried to look at least halfway decent no matter what time of the morning it was, Mary was rarely out of her bathrobe by breakfast. Her hair was still unbrushed, piled on top of her head in a curly, half-hearted ponytail, though she'd at least managed to get her glasses on this morning. Many a time she'd wandered into the dining hall without them, stumbling over chairs, tables, and – once – a coffeepot.

She was just about to take her first bite of donut, when Vash tugged on her sleeve. Mary blinked at him. "What is it, sweetie?"

"You didn't say thank you," he whispered. Mary made a sound between a hiccup and guffaw while Angel just raised an eyebrow and Rem hid her smile behind her mug.

"Better set a good example," Rem chided.

Mary spent another minute obviously trying to figure out what had gone wrong with her morning before giving up and turning to Angel. "Uh, thanks?"

He didn't even try to hide his grin. "No problem."

That settled, Mary dug into her food with enthusiasm. "Where's Joey?"

"Up on the bridge," Angel answered. "Trouble with nav control again. Rowen's working on it with him."

Knives turned to Rem. "Can we help after breakfast?"

"Sorry, guys, school first," she said. "Mary's worked hard on your lesson plan."

"But-"

"No buts."

"Awww…"

"Geez, I'm starting to feel unloved over here," Mary sniffed. "All this effort to avoid me."

Knives shrugged. "Your classes aren't very interesting."

"Knives!" Twin admonishments from Rem and Angel and the boy shrunk back.

Vash patted Mary's arm and smiled reassuringly. "We still like you, though."

Mary appeared utterly discombobulated and Rem felt her buoyant mood deflate a little. The twins presented a deep mystery for her, one moment acting their apparent age, the next making some very adult comment or observation. Rem was slowly growing used to it and she didn't think Angel minded, but the rest of the crew was still thrown off by the actions of their two newest members.

The door swooshed open and Steve stomped in, paying no attention to those seated and heading straight for the food. He retrieved two donuts and a cup of coffee before throwing a look towards their group. His disinterested expression turned downright dark as he caught sight of the two boys. They twitched under his glare, producing a satisfied smirk from him in return. He spared a leer for Mary before tromping right back out again, drawing their pregnant pause out into a truly uncomfortable silence.

Angel kept his eyes on the now empty door and sipped his coffee. "That man's going to be trouble one of these days."

***  


  
"The T. Fosteriana appears to have 'broken,' with vertical stripes found in at least six plants. A clipping has shown evidence of honeydew, no doubt caused by aphid infestation. Recommend a new batch of lacewings or ladybird beetles to be bred immediately." Rem paused, grimaced and looked back through her microscope. "Computer halt."

The computer chirped an affirmative and Rem sighed. The balance in the biosphere (affectionately nicknamed the "rec room" by the crew) was a delicate one, an ecosystem that had to be constantly monitored and maintained by her human caretakers. Certain insects and their predators had been introduced into the system to create as natural an environment as possible but difficulties still arose despite good intentions. Such as the aphids affecting her poor, beleaguered tulips.

Part of the greater problem was cryostasis. If she could stay awake for the entire voyage, she could keep an eye on her plants, giving them the proper attention they needed to flourish. But in a trip that could take hundreds of years, that had already taken nearly a century, it simply wasn't an option. Instead she had to re-store her bulbs and seeds, freeze up her insect hordes, and hope her trees could manage without her for a couple years.

Cryogenics were a royal pain in the rear sometimes.

She looked to the pot of red geraniums (Zonal pelargonium) sitting on her desk. She'd taken the cuttings about five weeks after they'd gotten out of stasis for the fifth time and managed to keep them blooming almost continually since. Considering just how…busy her life had become recently, this felt like a small, yet significant victory.

"Computer resume." An answering beep. "Personal note: Saverem, Rem. Take clippings from geraniums, give them to the boys. It'll be a good project for them."

No sooner did she finish dictation than Joey's voice crackled over the intercom.

"All hands, report to bridge." He paused, then added the four words they all dreaded. "We have a problem."

***  


  
Rem met Angel halfway there. The night watchman still looked half-asleep.

"What's going on?"

She shrugged. "I know as much as you do."

They could only take that as a bad sign.

They rode up the lift together in silence, stepping out onto the bridge simultaneously. Joey leaned against his command chair, arms crossed and a deep frown carving lines in his face. Rowan Larson, their resident physicist, stood next to him. He kept moving his hands, shoving them in his pockets then leaving them at his side for a moment only to suddenly clasp them behind his back, nerves more than evident. Steve paced in front of the forward viewscreen, the stars behind him flying on oblivious to his actions.

Rem looked to Joey. "What's happened?"

"I'd rather wait for everyone to arrive," he answered neutrally.

Steve stopped and glared at him. "Why bother?" he said. "We already know whose fault it is."

"What's whose fault?" Rem asked.

"We don't know anything for certain, yet," Joey told her while looking at Steve, meeting the larger man's scowl with cool professionalism. "And, Steve, no accusations until we do."

Angel ran a hand through his hair, stifling a yawn. "Come on, Joey, clue us in here."

Before the captain could answer, Mary breezed in from the lift, the twins trailing after her. "Sorry, we were knee-deep in anatomy lab. What's up?"

"Rowan." At the command, the young scientist turned to the nearest interface and started typing commands into the computer. Joey straightened, clearing his throat. "When Project SEEDS was first green-lighted, cold storage was a calculated risk. Everyone knew that despite our best efforts, there was still a chance some pods would fail. And now they have."

Rem shuddered at a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. Angel laid an arm over her shoulders and she leaned into his chest for support. Rowan took over the report. "The on-board computers have been keeping track of each storage unit, programmed with acceptable parameters for failure. While we've had individual pod failure on almost every ship, considering how massive an undertaking the Project was our losses have been few. However, on this ship itself we're venturing out of proscribed parameters and into some serious problems."

He pressed a key on his computer interface and a graph replaced the stars on-screen. Each colony ship had its own line and there was no doubt that the command ship's line was rising steadily over the last few months. Rowan continued. "More pods lost than average and the rate's increasing. We're trying to isolate the cause, but if we can't, there's a chance of total life support failure."

"And if that happens," Joey added. "We'll have to activate the secondary command module and abandon ship."

"No!" Rem burst out. "We can't! We have a duty to protect the colonists."

Joey sighed. "I understand, Rem, and I promise you, it will *only* come as a last resort, but we have to prepare ourselves, just in case."

"There has to be another way," she insisted.

"*I've* got a suggestion," Steve broke in. "But no one ever listens to me until it's too late, do they?"

"What are you talking about?" Mary said.

"What do you think? I mean, when did our problems really begin?" He turned towards the twins. "Two fucking guesses."

The two boys backed away, wide-eyed. Rem frowned. "That's ridiculous. They're only children."

"Pretty words, but we all know what they really are."

"That's enough, Steve," Joey told him. "I already told you, no accusations here."

"Why?" Steve challenged, sarcastic, cruel. "Because I'm the only one willing to say what we're all thinking? Too scared to face the truth?"

Angel stepped in front of him. "He said, that's enough."

"What, you wanna make something of it?"

Angel smiled and it was nothing but predatory. "If I do, I promise you'll be the first to know."

"Hey," Mary snapped. "Are you two finished spraying your testosterone around yet or can we start actually looking for some solutions here?"

"She's right, the matter's moot." Joey glared at the other two men. "Steve, you're more than bordering on insubordination. Keep it up and I will throw you in the brig. Are we clear?" Steve snorted, but didn't say anything more. The captain turned to the rest of the crew.

"As for the matter at hand, for the moment I just want you to be aware of potential complications but continue your work as before. Rem, I want status updates on the rec room with highlights on any irregularities. We might see something there first before it comes up in normal life support protocols. Mary, take over my lessons with the boys when possible. I'll be working more closely with Rowan in the meantime." The twins traded a small, dismayed look that only caused Mary to roll her eyes heavenward.

"Steve, daily updates and full diagnostics run on every Plant. Angel, I need hourly check-ups of cold storage. More failures have occurred during night cycle than not. Wake me and Rowen immediately if another one occurs." Joey looked at them each in the eye in turn. "All right. Dismissed."

***  


" '…But I reckon I got to light out for the territory ahead of the rest, because Aunt Sally, she's going to adopt me and civilize me, and I can't stand it. I've been there before.' " Rem closed the book and smiled at the two blonde boys cuddled against her. "The End."

Knives blinked and yawned, glancing at his brother who'd fallen asleep two chapters back. "Vash will want to know what happened at the end of the story," he told her.

"I know. I'll tell him in the morning." She wriggled out from between the small, warm bodies, careful not to disturb Vash. Knives curled up under the comforter, ice blue eyes struggling to stay open as Rem tucked him in.

"Rem?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Where did those people go? The ones who died?"

Oh lord, philosophical discussions with sleepy children on topics she barely had figured out herself. She swallowed a sigh and bit her lip. "Well, they're in heaven."

"Where God lives?"

"Uh-huh." Better to keep it simple.

"What's it like?"

"Oh. Um, it's very peaceful," she answered slowly. "Everyone there is happy. There's no wars or strife or any bad things, just lots of love and caring and warmth."

"But if it's so nice, why are you sad when people go there?"

Good lord, out of the mouths of babes. How could one that young be that observant? "I, uh, I guess because we miss them. It's very hard to say goodbye to someone you love."

And, oh, did that rip open old wounds. Nights spent in cold, hard hospital chairs, stale coffee giving brief moments of clarity to blurry, mind-numbing grief. Begging, pleading, demanding that he stay just a little longer, don't leave her alone, don't abandon her, still knowing it would be inevitable as she waited for that one final hiss of the respirator before silence permanently descended.

She blinked back sudden tears and smiled through the pain. "And this is hardly the time for that discussion, young man." She gave him a kiss on the forehead. "Go to sleep, okay?"

He nodded, eyes drifting closed, and she stole out of the room.

A half-hour later found her pacing the length of her quarters, hands wringing in agitation. Every time she approached the door, she'd stop before it could activate and turn right back around. After all, she *did* have work to do and the problems in cold storage seemed to lend a certain urgency to that. Surely…surely this could wait.

She halted in front of her mirror, staring at her reflection. Same as it always was – a tall woman with long black hair and unusual amber eyes. Yet had something changed in it the last few months? It seemed she was *there* in a way she hadn't been before, aware of – of something, though what she couldn't say. There was just – more.

Rem turned her back on the mirror and walked out.

***  


Rowan only stopped staring at the computer screen when he realized he had been looking at it for five minutes without actually reading what it said. He took his glasses off, rubbed at dry, tired eyes, then got around to paying attention to his data.

Same as before.

He groaned and buried his head in his arms. He'd spent most of the night running diagnostics on cold storage and still had nothing to show for his efforts. None of the failed pods had been connected. None of the surrounding pods had even shown a twinge of abnormal activity. It was like the stasis chambers had simply decided to just stop working.

Perhaps he'd call Mary or Steve to help him tomorrow. Steve could help him measure energy outputs from the Plants to storage. Mary could maybe take a look at the colonists' medical histories, see if they had been more susceptible to…something (although why they all would catch it at the same time, he had no idea). Maybe she could even retrieve the bodies, perform an autopsy…

But that was ridiculous. He knew why they died. Their stasis chambers failed, they couldn't revive properly, end of story.

Right, so no Mary. And Steve, well, he didn't play well with others at times. Best to work on this alone when he could concentrate better without Steve's running commentary and Mary's other – assets.

"Computer. Run diagnostic again."

And he *would* find an answer because he knew could. He just had to find that one missing puzzle piece and it would all fall into place. No problem.

No problem at all.

***  


"Oof!"

"Good!"

"But I'm on the floor."

"Are you hurt?"

"Um, no, actually."

"Then you've learned how to fall properly. It's just as important as throwing a punch."

"Oh."

Angel helped Rem off the mat. She swiped at sweat-drenched bangs, tying her flyaway hairs back into her ponytail. Angel allowed her a minute to rest and she winced at sore back muscles as she stretched. The bruises that hurt now would be gone by morning.

Angel's workouts were long and comprehensive. Fifteen minutes of meditation, ten minutes of warm-up, followed by a regiment combining the grace of Tae Kwon Do and grit of boxing. At the end, they would warm down with Tae Chi katas, something he insisted she practice on her own as well. She found that a bit odd because it seemed less conducive to fighting then her other training, but then Angel could be strange that way. And honestly, the less fighting she had to do the better.

"Ready yet?"

Rem shook her head. "Need another minute."

Angel frowned as he looked at her panting. "You shouldn't be so tired."

She responded with a glare. "Some of us actually need to breathe."

"That's not-" He ran a hand through his hair. "You should be further along in your training. Maybe I've been too soft on you."

"Too *soft?* Angel, I can barely move!"

"But you should be able to. You've got greater abilities now, much more stamina. Why haven't you tapped into that yet?"

"I don't know." She shrugged, turning around and retrieving her towel and water bottle. "I'm a little old for a Calling. Maybe we're wrong. Maybe this was – I don't know. A fluke."

"Maybe." The way he said that made the hairs on the back of her neck stiffen. "Maybe not."

Rem turned and bit back a scream as the man who was once Angel charged her, fangs bared in a snarl and yellow eyes glowing.

Time slowed, stopped. Rem stepped outside herself, watching as the woman she was yet wasn't shifted her weight, braced against her back foot and met the on-coming beast with her shoulder. Another slide and she flipped him with inhuman strength, sending him right into the wall with a resounding crash.

Time resumed its normal course and Rem's hands flew to her mouth as she realized what she'd done.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, Angel, I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I didn't mean-" She babbled as she rushed to his aid, bringing him to his feet. He winced as her hand brushed his back and abashed, she withdrew. He stared straight at her, unblinking, features shifting back to human.

His expression was not happy.

"You've been holding back."

"What?"

"That." He pointed at where he'd hit the wall. "Why the hell haven't I seen that before?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." The words sounded false even to her ears.

"You know *damn* well what I'm talking about." Already dark eyes darkened further. She'd never seen him this angry before. "Six months we've been training and not *once* have you shown me the power you did just a minute ago."

She looked down, to the side, anywhere but him. "You caught me off guard," she said softly.

"Damnit, Rem-" He cut himself off, forcing his arms down. He spent a moment composing himself, fists finally relaxing. When she looked at him again, his expression had softened though it brokered no argument. "Tell me what's going on."

"I don't-"

"Please." Gentle, but not pleading, he placed a hand on her arm. She found herself trembling slightly under his touch. "I'm your friend. More importantly, I'm your teacher. I need to know."

She looked past his shoulder to the far wall. "I don't know if I can."

"Can what? Tell me?"

She shook her head. "No. This." She gestured with her free arm, including the entire room. "The Slayer. As if it's a-a mantra, a prayer. The answer to everything. But it's not me, Angel. It's *not.*"

"Is that all?" He actually seemed amused, a slight smile gracing his lips. "Rem, you're experiencing a major change in your life. Of course you're bound to question it. Every Slayer has."

"No, you don't understand." She pulled away, took a step back. "This is the antithesis of me, of my beliefs. I'm supposed to help nurture, help grow, I'm supposed to teach." Her voice cracked. "And how can I teach the boys anything if I'm no more than a killer?"

"Is that what you really believe?" he asked, cool palm caressing her cheek.

"It's true, isn't it?" she sniffed. "That's what a Slayer does."

"Oh, Rem." He drew her into a hug, strong arms holding her to a chest where no heart beat. She buried her head in his shoulder. "First, you haven't killed anyone. And second, a Slayer is a warrior, not a killer."

"Like there's a difference."

"Stop that," he chided, not unlike he often did to the boys. Considering their age difference, it wasn't an entirely unwarranted analogy. "Now listen, being a Slayer may not be a chosen calling, but it is a noble one. And every one of those girls I've known has performed their duty out of love and honor. Don't ever sell yourself short."

"Killing is still killing, Angel."

His arms tightened and his voice grew a touch more brittle. "I'm on intimate terms with death. Believe me when I say every one is different."

Rem swallowed, allowing the silence between them to grow. Angel began to idly stroke her hair. It felt nice, comforting in its way. She wiped at bright eyes and tried to smile. "You aren't going to start lecturing me on 'the smallest sacrifice possible,' are you?"

That surprised a chuckle out of him. "No, I think I'll leave that to our good captain." He squeezed her again. "Alright?"

"I'll live," she said, pulling away.

"Same time tomorrow?"

She recognized the question for his opinion on the situation and accepted it. For the moment. "Yeah. I'll be here."

"Good." He kissed her forehead, sending unexpected tingles all through her body. "I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow."

***  


  
It moved through the belly of the ship, unseen, unheard, keen senses leading it ever onward.

It couldn't precisely remember how it came to be here, this strange place of cold and metal and hollow echoes that ricocheted about its head. It knew it had been somewhere before here, a place less hard with a greater feast to offer, a veritable cornucopia of sensation.

It remembered power. It could taste that still.

No. In the end, it didn't matter how it came to be here. All that mattered was the hunt.

The hunt and the hunger.

END PART ONE


	3. Part Two: Things Fall Apart

Note: To those that reviewed (all, what, three of you?), a big, big thank you. I've really enjoyed working on this piece but the lack of feedback was really discouraging. The first reviews came after what had been a truly lousy day for me and the encouragement that came just from knowing people thought enough of the piece to write in has helped a lot.

And for those that are reading and not reviewing – I know you want to. You can even tell me you don't like it (really, I'm a big girl, I can handle it). Just let me know what you think so I can fix, not fix, whatever. Every little bit helps.

Anyway, enough from me. Enjoy.

PART TWO

__

A desert without heat but Rem is already tired of it. A mountain lion meets her before she can arrive at the cliff, sitting back on its hunches and staring at her with wise eyes

__

"Who are you?" she asks. The lion yawns, pink tongue rolling out between sharp, white fangs. It idly begins to lick its paw.

__

"What do you want from me?" The large cat simply looks to the side. She follows its gaze to a crumbling well that she could swear hadn't been there a moment ago. A broken bucket with rotting rope sits next to it, sinking partially into the sand as the desert reclaims it. Harsh lessons on a barren plain.

__

"I don't understand," she tells the lion, not expecting any answer. The cat blinks and its eyes, she realizes, are the same sick yellow of Angel's eyes when he turns. The voice of the First fills her head, loud as a whisper, quiet as a scream. She falls to her knees.

decide

__

And then the lion is upon her, jaws tearing her throat, blood on fangs and sleek, brown fur…

***  


Knives stared at the Plant bulb across from him, elbows resting on crossed knees and expression intent, focused. Nothing happened for a minute, then, almost too quick to see, something within the bulb fluttered to the surface before retreating again.

Knives grinned.

Neither he nor Vash saw the world in quite the same way humans did, partly a natural result of their rapid development and partly from the fact that though they looked and acted like their adoptive caregivers, they were not, in fact, human.

For example, though Knives had not moved in nearly half an hour, he and his elder, bulb-bound brother had been playing the Plant equivalent to Hide 'n Seek.

Knives genuinely loved spending time with his twin and he liked Rem's lessons (he still thought Mary was a dull teacher, no matter what Rem said), but he as often as not preferred to sit in the Plant chambers alone, listening to the surrounding chatter of his own kind. Mostly because, much as he hated to admit it, humans confused the hell out of him. And he wasn't entirely sure why, especially when Vash seemed to understand them just fine. He could only surmise that there was something wrong with him, some flaw in his logic that upon discovery would make him mentally slap his forehead and say "Oh, well of *course.*" It was just a matter of time.

However, there was a small part of him that was beginning to suspect another possibility. He didn't like to dwell on it and hadn't even told Vash what it was, but he couldn't deny its existence once it got lodged in his head.

Maybe, that small part said, there wasn't anything wrong with him. Maybe it was everyone else. Maybe, just maybe, he was smarter than they were.

A hint of _curiosityquestioningconfusion_ brushed against his mind and he quickly sent out an assurance to the Plant. He may have had questions but he didn't want to worry his siblings with them, especially when there was nothing they could do about it.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing in here?"

Knives stifled a sigh and turned to meet Steve's irritated expression with a bland one of his own. He wasn't so sure about the rest of the crew, but he *definitely* knew he was smarter than Steve. "Nothing. I was only watching."

"Nothing?" Steve expressed the entirety of his disbelief in the single word. He stormed past the slight boy to the monitoring system, muttering darkly to himself. Knives rolled his eyes and hoped Steve finished whatever he had to do soon. He'd promised he'd finish the game with his sibling and he intended on keeping his word.

"What did you do?"

Knives frowned at the now furious human. "I told you I didn't – ow!"

Steve grabbed his upper arm and dragged him over to the monitor screens. "That, you little freak. Energy levels are up 10%. You telling me you had nothing to do with that?"

"That's right."

"Don't lie to me!" Steve shook him hard enough to bring tears to Knives's eyes. "Everything was normal until you came along!"

Knives squirmed, trying to get out of the large man's grip, tendrils of real fear starting to seize him. "I'm not lying! I didn't do any-"

"DON'T LIE!" Steve roared, drawing his hand back. Knives's breath hitched and he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the strike.

It never came. In fact, the pressure on his arm vanished. He cautiously opened one eye, then widened both as he realized what happened.

Steve was pulled back, his arm twisted and held behind him by a calm, collected Angel.

"There a problem here?" For all the inflection in he put in the question, the dark-haired man might as well have been asking "Nice day, isn't it?" or "Catch the Mets game?"

Steve grimaced and writhed under the steel grip. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, that's a relief," Angel said in the same conversational tone. "Because for a moment there, I thought you were about to hit Knives. You weren't about to hit a little kid, were you?"

"No, 'course not."

"That's what I thought."

"Angel, c'mon, I need my arm back."

"You sure? It's not going anywhere it shouldn't?"

"Ow! No, it's not, okay? Ow!"

Angel released him and stepped back, the very picture of Zen calm. Steve rubbed his abused wrist, glowering equally between Knives and the night watchman.

"Why don't you take a break?" Angel suggested. "I can handle things from here."

Steve sneered and leaned into the smaller man's space. "One day, Angel. You're gonna get what's coming to you."

"Probably." Angel smiled in a way that wasn't at all pleasant. "But it's not going to be from you."

Steve snarled and pushed by him, stomping out of the room. As soon as the door slid shut, Angel knelt by Knives, calm melted into concern. He placed a hand on the boy's forehead, brushing aside fine, blonde hairs. "You okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Knives shook his head, surprised to find he was trembling. He'd never felt so vulnerable and he discovered he hated it.

"Come on, we'll talk to Joey and-"

"No!" Knives took a step back.

Angel frowned. "Knives, if he tried to hurt you…"

"But he didn't. I'm fine, see?" The boy smiled, strained and stiff. Bad enough that Steve had caught him off-guard, forcing a rescue from Angel, but he certainly didn't want to admit that to anyone else.

Angel looked less than reassured. He placed a hand on Knives's shoulder, meeting blue eyes with brown. "Are you sure you don't want to talk to the captain? He can get Steve to stop."

Knives stuck out his chin. "I can take care of myself."

"Knives-"

"I can!" He stomped his foot. "I'm not some little kid!"

Angel's expression softened. "I know you can. But that doesn't mean you have to do it all alone."

Knives looked to the ground, small fists clenched. He wanted to open up to the pale watchman but feared the consequence of that action. He'd only ever shared secrets with his brother before – what did it mean to whisper those things to a human?

"Please," he said quietly. "Don't tell."

Angel sighed. "All right. On one condition." Knives lifted his head. "This happens again, you come to me right away." The boy opened his mouth but was stopped by a raised hand from Angel. "That's the deal, kiddo. Take or leave it."

Knives bit his lip and, feeling left with little choice, nodded.

"All right, then," Angel said. "Okay. Are we cool?"

Knives gave him a brief, but genuine smile this time. "Yeah. We're cool."

"Great. Now let's go find your brother. He's probably gotten himself into all sorts of trouble without you there to watch him."

He held out his hand and with only slight hesitation, Knives placed his own into Angel's calloused palm. As he walked next to the watchman, he couldn't help thinking that perhaps while the rest of the crew was hopeless, Angel seemed like he might just be okay.

***  


  
Rowan wasn't sleeping well. Or at all.

Two more pod failures. Two more deaths. Two more colonists who wouldn't wake to greet loved ones and friends as they came out of their hundred years slumber.

And he *knew.* Knew the answer was sitting right there in front of him, waiting for him to seize it, quantify it, solve it, because, damnit, that's what he did. Got an engineering problem? A physics question? A calculus equation? Just stop by Rowan's room, kid's a genius, everyone says so.

His lip curled back in a silent snarl as he stared at the monitor. Fucking computers. What did they know? What did any of them know? The answer was obvious once you eliminated the impossible. Whatever remained, Occam's razor and all of that philosophical crap he'd never had any time for back in school. Who needed it anyway when he could explore the outer realms of science, figure out the fundamental mysteries of the universe instead of navel gazing with a bunch of flakes?

And evidence could always be found to prove a theory even if it didn't actually exist in the strictest sense of the word. After all, he was right. He had to be right. Because the alternative was unthinkable.

He set to work.

***  


  
"That idiotic-"

BAM!

"-pig-headed-"

BAM!

"-bloody-minded-"

BAM!

"-jerk!"

In a display of rare anger, Rem pounded into the punching bag, each hit punctuated by another curse. Of all the stupid, awful things to do…

"And you!" She whirled on Angel, who stepped back, startled.

"Me?"

"You! How could you not tell Joey? What were you *thinking?*"

"I promised Knives-"

"Knives is a scared little boy! You should know better!"

"That's not fair, Rem."

"Not fair? *Not* *fair?*" She slammed her fist into the bag, ripping it off its hinge and sending it into the wall. Witnessing the destruction she'd wrought, she slid to the floor and tried her best not to cry. Angel took a seat as well, albeit out of arm's reach.

"Feel better?" he asked.

She sniffled. "No."

He sighed, a strange habit she thought, considering his lungs didn't work. "I didn't think so."

"God, I knew Knives was more reserved but why didn't he say anything to me? Or Vash? And what was Steve *doing,* threatening a child? He has a temper but I never imagined…" She shuddered, wrapping her arms around her knees. "How could this have been going on? How could I misjudge the situation so badly?"

"It's not your fault."

"Isn't it? The boys are my responsibility. I brought them on board, I promised I'd look after them, I accepted that duty."

Angel shook his head. "People can sometimes surprise you in the worst ways possible. It doesn't mean you've personally failed or that you can't do better next time."

"That's not very comforting."

He shrugged. "It's the truth."

She pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes and made a small, distressed noise at the back of her throat. "I hate this, I hate this, I hate this. And the next time I see Steve, I swear I'll – I'll –"

"Give him a good stern talking-to?"

She laughed weakly. "Yeah, probably. Angel, I can't stress how unhappy I am about this secret-keeping."

"I made a promise, Rem. I can't break that trust."

"And boy do I know about that," she murmured.

"Look, we both know now. We can keep an eye on the situation."

"Not twenty-four hours a day."

"To be perfectly honest, Steve's a coward and he's already been caught once. I doubt he'll do it again."

"Maybe he'll just get better at hiding it."

Angel snorted in something that might have been amusement. "Since when did I become the optimist in this relationship?"

"I think about the time I became capable of throwing you across the room."

"Halfway across."

"All the way across."

"Did not."

"Did so."

He smirked. "Braggart."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Liar."

He rose, holding out a hand which Rem accepted. "I'll talk to Knives again. Maybe he'll come around."

"Please do," she said, re-tying her hair into a ponytail.

"Ready for Round Two, then?"

"I think so."

And then the ship's alarm went off.

***  


Rem shoved the feeling of déjà vu as far back down as she could as she stared at the assembled crew on the bridge once more. Steve dared look her in the eye and she couldn't help the small curl of her lip as anger rushed up all over again. He scowled but averted his gaze.

Mary, in robe and slippers, frowned at her and whispered, "What've you been doing?"

"Couldn't sleep. Decided to work out."

"Hmm." The doctor's gaze slipped from her to Angel, looking less sweaty but clearly dressed in gym clothes. She, however, commented no further on the matter and Rem couldn't read anything more from her expression. The boys slipped away from Mary, taking up positions on either side of her. Rem felt strangely comforted by the act.

Joey cleared his throat. Rem felt a solid knot form in the pit of her stomach at his expression.

"Our worst fears have been confirmed."

A collective gasp came from his small audience, but no words came. There were no words for this.

"The failures in cryo are a result of a looped flaw in the life support systems of this ship. This has begun a domino effect that will eventually reach command and result in complete failure ship wide. We're left with no other option than to abandon ship."

"No." But Rem said it so quietly no one heard. Angel stepped forward.

"Joey, are you absolutely positive about this?"

"I've been running numbers for over a week," Rowan answered, looking pale and nearly dead on his feet. His eyes appeared abnormally distorted behind the lenses of his glasses. "All diagnostics point to a complete breakdown – the program itself is flawed. I could fix it if I had a support staff and another six weeks but the sims don't give us that amount of time."

"Still-"

"Angel," Joey broke in gently. "I've seen Rowan's report, ran the program myself. There's no doubt about the results or what we have to do."

Steve looked like he might have some very specific doubts but when he opened his mouth, he received Angel's glare full on. He remained silent. Rem barely paid attention. "Joey, please, there has to be another solution."

"Rem, I understand your feelings-"

"No, no you don't." Her fists clenched. "We took an oath to protect the colonists. We're breaking our promise."

"We took an oath to protect the Project."

"The colonists *are* the Project!"

"And I am damned well aware of that, Saverem!" he snapped back, strain finally breaking through his collected exterior. "I don't want to make this decision! But I have an obligation to the well being of all the colonists, not just the ones on this ship. So if you have a way of saving the millions of lives in here without compromising our other duties, I am perfectly open to suggestions!"

Rem felt the first tinge of pain as nails began to cut into the flesh of her palms. No answer came forth, no sudden insight, no solution, just the sickening knowledge that this, all of this, was so very, very wrong.

"Joey, please," she whispered but she could say no more beyond that.

Her captain only sighed and rubbed his forehead, weariness lining the planes of his face. "I'm sorry, Rem, and I'm sorry we've all been faced with the worst possible scenario of this voyage. But now that we are, we have to manage as best we can. We'll have five days to prepare and another three to activate secondary command's systems. A full debriefing will be given to you tomorrow morning, 0800 sharp. And-and that's all."

Upon that uncharacteristic stutter, he left the bridge, leaving his crew behind to come to terms. Steve almost immediately followed, anger trailing like a thick cloud behind him. Rowan paused by Rem, started to reach out a hand to her shoulder, then pulled back, lips thinning. With a shake of his head, he also left.

Vash tugged on the edge of her T-shirt. "Rem? Rem, what're we gonna do now?"

What a question. She had no idea of the answer to it. Knives frowned. "Rem?"

Angel said nothing to her, instead gathering the twins and herding them towards Mary. "Come on, guys, I need to talk to Rem for a minute. Mary, could you…?"

"Hmm?" Mary seemed to rouse herself from a deep trance, glancing from Rem to Angel to the boys. "Oh yeah. Yeah, sure. Let's go, boys, back to bed."

"What's wrong with Rem?" Vash asked.

"Oh, honey, she's just a bit upset. Give her a little time, she'll be good as new…"

The rest of her words faded as she guided the twins out of the room. Angel cautiously approached the bridge's other remaining occupant, placing himself directly in her line of sight. "Rem?"

She just stared at him, feeling stretched out, aged too quickly in a matter of minutes. "It's all gone wrong."

"I know, I-" He stepped forward to hug her but she moved out of reach, leaving him to stand awkwardly with arms outstretched. He lowered them. "Talk to me."

"No." She shook her head. "No, I can't. Not yet, not when I – I have to go."

"Rem, wait-"

"I'm sorry," she said, paused by the door on her way out. "I have work to do."

She left him alone with only his thoughts and the stars for company.

***  


Rem moved through the following three days in a fugue of desperation. She could barely recall her orders from that first emergency meeting, let alone minor activities like eating or sleeping. As far as she was concerned, they were not abandoning ship, they were not abandoning the colonists, they were simply experiencing a temporary setback. She would find the solution – whatever it may be – and things would finally get back to normal.

At the back of her mind, Rem knew of the futility of her actions. She was ignoring the boys, her job, her duty and had little to show for it except for black bags under her eyes and a large pot of never ending coffee. Guilt gnawed at her conscience but still she couldn't give up. Not when everything within her screamed to solve this ultimate dilemma before it was too late.

She had rerun Rowan's simulations twice already and was already halfway through her third test. Angel had an extensive personal library on topics ranging from Plant engineering to Druidic magic and a good portion of it was currently stacked by her elbow. If there was anything outside of the ship's system with answers, that's where she'd find it.

Despite her best efforts and the sheer amount of caffeine she'd consumed, she found her attention wandering as three sleepless nights started to take their toll. She blinked rapidly, drank some more coffee and forced herself to concentrate on the screen in front of her. She even pinched herself once, brain refocusing on the sudden, slight pain in her arm and brought back to her physical state. Still, though she so desperately wanted to maintain her concentration, she found her thoughts drifting to other times, other places and...

…and she was fifteen and Daddy wanted her to meet this old friend of his. Mister Angel was awfully handsome, but he seemed a little stiff as he told her that she wasn't like other girls, that there was something special about her…

…and she was eighteen and at her parents' funeral, wondering how she could take care of her brother when they had no one else. Angel came up to her and said he was sorry and she told him that everyone was sorry but Mommy and Daddy couldn't come back…

…and she was twenty-two and Alex asked her to marry him and she said are you sure, and he said he'd never been more sure of anything…

…and she was twenty-four and Alex was dead…

…and she was twenty-five and at boot camp for Project SEEDS, ready to start a year-long program in preparation for the greatest experiment humanity had ever conducted, when someone suddenly tapped her on the shoulder. She turned and there was Angel, whom she hugged because that was what one did when one saw an old friend one never expected to see again. She asked him what was he doing there and he said that when you got to be his age, you knew a lot of people who owed you favors…

…and she was twenty-nine, Called later than any Slayer she'd ever heard of, and she was sound asleep in front of her computer.

***  


Angel had learned quite a bit over the last few centuries, discretion the least of them. He worried after Rem as she indulged in her obsession virtually leaving the twins to his care, but knew interference at this point would be futile. She would have to come to acceptance in her own time and nothing he could say would make the least bit of difference.

After putting the boys to sleep with promises that there'd be a story the following night, he took to wandering the corridors of the ship, no particular destination in mind. Though intellectually he knew day and night on board were simply artificial terms, divided by no more than man-made lights and a clock on the wall, over five hundred years developing certain nocturnal habits had made him a permanent night owl, even if only in his mind. He preferred the solitude, the opportunity to sort his thoughts without the constant presence of other people, the soft glow of dimmed bulbs, the natural hush.

It almost made the sheer amount of weaseling, threatening, and outright pleading to get him the job as sole night watchman of Project SEEDS seem worth it. But, Jesus, what a headache it had been to get that far.

The past few nights, without surprise, had found his solitude disrupted by the insomnia that had spread throughout the crew upon Joey's announcement. He himself had spent a good portion of his daylight hours preparing for the evacuation rather than sleeping.

Speaking of which, the lights in med bay were still on. He stepped into the room. "Hello?"

Mary looked up from a datapad and gave him a tired grin. "Hey there."

Carts from maintenance were stacked around the room, half of her equipment already packed and the other half arranged into piles according to function. Mary herself looked much the same, somewhat scattered and haggard.

"Need a hand?" he asked.

"Nah." She waved him off. "I seem to have developed a system of packing no one else can follow. But I wouldn't object to some company."

Angel hopped up onto one of patient cots that wasn't currently filled with boxes. "Happy to oblige."

Mary spent a few moments frowning over her 'pad before giving up on whatever it was she was working on with a disgusted grunt and taking a seat next to Angel. "Who knew that abandoning ship could be such a pain in the ass?"

"Probably to discourage us from using it too hastily."

"Bah." She paused and bit her lip. "Um, Angel, listen, I've been meaning to ask…"

"Yeah?"

"Well, it's not my business, so feel free not to answer, but," she took a deep breath, "what in the world is going on with you and Rem?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Oh come on. The two of you are always whispering to each other and there's these clandestine meetings in the middle of the night. I mean, really, what else is there to think?"

He hadn't even looked at it that way and Mary's sudden, if natural, suggestion surprised a laugh out of him. "Mary, Rem and I are not sleeping together."

She frowned. "Then what the hell are you doing? Wrestling?"

__

Close. He placed a hand over his non-beating heart. "I swear to you, Rem and I are friends, nothing more. She wanted to learn Tai Chi, I'm teaching her some basic katas, but that's it."

"Oh." Mary cupped her chin and bent over her knee. "That sucks."

"And why's that?"

"Well, I was hoping at least one person was getting laid on this trip."

He grinned. "Sorry to disappoint."

She remained silent for a minute before her mouth twisted into a sly grin. "So, who *were* you seeing before our great journey began?"

"What makes you think I was seeing anyone?"

"Well, a good-looking guy like you, energetic, intellectual-"

"First time I've been accused of that-"

"-funny," she continued without hesitation. "And last I checked, you weren't a monk." She raised an eyebrow and leaned closer to him. "Unless you are. Something you're not sharing with us, Mister Angel?"

He was beginning to get the very distinct impression that Mary was flirting with him. Funny, in its own way, especially considering how close to the truth she danced without ever guessing how wrong she was. "I haven't taken any vows of chastity recently."

"Really." She drew the word out - _reahh-ly_. "Then what is stopping you and the lovely Rem from getting it on?"

__

Minor things like an ancient gypsy curse and the fact I'm not alive. _No big._ "Oh, you know. Old friends old patterns. She's almost like a sister to me."

"Almost. But not quite."

"But not quite," he admitted.

Mary placed a hand on his knee. "Angel, you have far too much self-control than what's good for you."

"I prefer to think of it as a small modicum of restraint."

"Restraint, self-control, all the same." Mary now leaned much further into his personal space, enough to make the steady beat of her heart a constant pounding in his ears. He could smell her perfume overlaying her natural odor of autumn and a faint medicinal cling that came from constant contact with antibiotics. And underneath all of that, something that smelled worryingly like arousal. "Don't you ever wish you weren't so uptight? That you could just let it go?"

"Sometimes." He shifted away from her slightly. "But really, I have no problems with my lifestyle."

"Please," she answered, eyes hooded with intention and hand creeping up where it didn't belong. "No one's happy being a constant stick-in-the-mud."

She all but tackled him in an attempt to – well he wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to find out. Superhuman reflexes saved him from a most precarious position and Mary fell forward as he rolled to his feet a good meter away from her. "Mary, stop."

The doctor recovered quickly, slipping off the cot, lips pulled into a pout. "You don't like me."

"I like you fine." Age-old instincts were starting to tingle and his spine straightened. Something was beyond bizarre about this entire set-up.

"Then what's the problem?" She smiled prettily, hand gripping the front of his shirt. "I'm an adult, you're an adult, and, Jesus, Angel, it's only sex."

She reached up to pull his mouth down to hers, but he grabbed her hands in his own. Not enough to hurt but enough to pull them away and keep them that way. "Mary, listen to me. This isn't you."

She pushed forward against him. "This is me. This is all me."

"No, no it's not." He held her back, lowered his voice, looked into her eyes, and tried to make her listen, really listen. "You're a doctor, a scientist – think about what you've said, what you've implied. Is it rational?"

"I-" Her smile faltered, eyes brimming with confusion. "It must – I mean, I feel-"

"I know." He let her go, stepped back and reached out with that almost sixth sense that had been with him since his turning. He couldn't quite pinpoint the source, but he had no doubt of some outside influence now. "Believe me, I know."

Mary placed a hand to her temple, frowning and looking a little scared. "Angel, what's going on?"

"I'm not sure, I-" Preternatural senses flared as he heard Mary's sudden scream, but before he could turn, he felt a piercing pain rip through his back. He looked down to see the tips of three claws sticking out from his chest and only had time to think _Damnit, I really liked that shirt._ Mary might have said something, or perhaps it was the thing behind him that spoke but he was beyond hearing anything.

Another rip and he lost all interest in the proceedings.

***  


decide

__

Why? What do you want from me?

you are not a well

__

You don't make any sense! None of this makes sense!

decide

__

Listen to me! Stop-

Rem awoke with a cry still lodged in her throat, head jerking back and arm flung to the side with a half-block to ward off something that wasn't there, knocking her collection of books to the floor. She found she was hyperventilating and had to consciously take a moment to collect herself. She couldn't be sure, but she felt like she had just been warned.

She rubbed her face, an effort to wake herself up and once more orient to her surroundings. She was still at her desk, Angel's library now strewn around her feet, computer in stand-by mode after it had remained without activity a set period of time. The fish screen saver bumped against the edges of the monitor, bouncing back like a ping pong ball and when it turned forward, she could swear there was an expression on its face that seemed to say _Well, it's about time_.

Clearly, she did not deal well without sleep.

She yawned, stretched in her chair and pulled away from her desk, before sliding off her chair to pick up the mess she'd made on the floor. The books had fallen out of their nominal order and she didn't feel up to the effort it would take to reorganize them at the moment, gathering them as she went. She picked up a hardback on geology – geology? – hand automatically reaching for the next book before she took a good look at its cover.

The text was the oldest she had seen by far, still bound in leather. Real leather, she knew, not the artificial hide that graced the few modern texts still printed on paper, rather than e-published. The spine was cracked and the front cover was slowly flaking to dust with age, but she could still read the title without trouble.

__

Vampyre.

Her breath hitched and escaped through her teeth in a long hiss. She couldn't remember selecting the book in her search, nor taking it with her to her quarters, but something had clearly called her to it, whether simple curiosity or something deeper, more primal. Her hand hovered above it, eyes fixated firmly on that single, damning word.

Could it be? Could it really be?

The answer being of course. Of course it could. She just hadn't wanted to know it.

She allowed the rest of the books to fall from her grasp to the floor once more; she could clean up later, if she had a later to come back to. Right now, she needed to find Angel, to tell him, yes, he was right, he was right and she was lost but there was no time to dwell on that when the ship was still in danger. And she wasn't above asking for help when she needed it either.

She started out into the hallway, trying to recall Angel's usual circuit around the ship. It was sleeping quarters first, then bridge, then…engineering? Maintenance? She couldn't remember. No matter. She began walking toward the lift; she'd simply explore each deck until she found him, allowing whatever *more* of her that was now present to lead the way.

The second level of sleeping quarters yielded nothing, as did the machine shops above them. At med bay, however she hesitated. The lights were on, but she couldn't see anyone present. Had Mary been there and forgotten to shut them down? That wasn't like her – Mary could be distracted easily at times but she was meticulous in her medical duties. Perhaps the doctor had gone to retrieve something and planned to come back.

A small, distant groan roused her from her theorizing. She ran quickly to the source, finding Mary behind a cot, disoriented from a blossoming bruise on her forehead.

"Mary!" Rem immediately knelt down beside her dazed friend, giving the doctor added support in order to rise. "What happened?"

"Something – something was here," Mary murmured, hand fluttering around her forehead as if not quite believing she had been injured. "No nausea, minor dizziness, doesn't feel like I'm concussed, have to check it out…"

Rem drew Mary tighter to her. "Mary, what was here? Did something do this to you?"

"Something…" The other woman's eyes widened and she grabbed hold of Rem's shirt. "Angel! Oh god!"

Rem suddenly couldn't breath. "Where's Angel?"

"I tried to stop it but it-it pushed me away, and it took him, it…" Mary could barely form the sentence. "Oh god, Rem, it killed him!"

Rem wondered if the artificial gravity had stopped working as the floor suddenly dropped from beneath her. But no, it was only her in her panic, and she took better stock of the room. No ash, no dust present, but there was blood on the floor and while it appeared Angel wasn't dead, he probably wouldn't stay that way for long. "Mary, listen, what was it? What did it look like?"

"I-I don't know, I've never seen anything like it." Mary swallowed, leaning entirely against Rem for support in some attempt to reign in looming hysteria. "It couldn't be human but – but that can't be possible. Can it?"

"No, it can't," Rem answered, the lie falling easily. Now was not the time. "Come on. We have to get back upstairs, call Joey."

She lead the doctor away from the comfort of the familiar med bay, realizing that Mary would need some sort of treatment but urgency dictating she take the doctor with her for the time being, unable to leave her alone in any case. She would leave her in the care of their captain, explain the situation as well she could, then find Angel, hoping he could hang in there until then. A plan of sorts but all she had for the moment.

The lift swiftly descended to the crew quarters. Mary was muttering medical terminology under her breath again as the doors opened for them but Rem paid her little mind. There were more important things to – 

She stopped.

Something looked wrong with the corridor.

Mary frowned. "Rem? What is it?"

What the hell was it? The hall appeared as it always did, softer in design, made to feel homey within the rest of the more industrial looking ship. And there were the doors, lined up neat as you please in a simple pattern, alternating on either side, port, starboard, port, starboard, port – 

Oh god.

Oh god, the twins' door.

The twins' door was open.

She was barely aware of Mary's arm slipping from her grasp, of the questions the doctor threw after her as she raced down the hall, skidding to a stop in front of the gaping maw that shouldn't be there but was. She didn't have to turn on the interior lights, didn't even have to confirm what her heart already knew and the soft hall lights falling against empty beds showed her.

The boys were gone.

END PART TWO


	4. Part Three: Re Veritas

PART THREE

Knives first noticed a general soreness in his muscles as consciousness returned. He grimaced and shifted onto his side, frown deepening; he didn't remember the bed being quite so hard before.

Awareness set in and he realized he lay not on the bed he'd fallen asleep in only a few hours earlier but on cool metal. His eyes snapped open and he sat upright. He was on a walkway, surrounded by the sleeping colonists in cold storage. The observation window hung some two hundred meters above him and if he moved a few feet to the left he could look over the edge of the suspended bridge down to the main animation chamber just barely visible below. He swallowed against a parched throat and had to grip the steel grating to regain his equilibrium after a wave of vertigo. How had he gotten here?

And where was Vash?

He sent out a wild empathic message consisting of little more than a panicked demand and felt immediate relief on getting a sleepy, confused reply. He spotted his brother lying only a meter or two away and half-scrambled, half-crawled to his prone form. Vash was just waking up when Knives placed a hand on his shoulder. "Vash?"

"Mmmph," his brother grunted. "'s cold."

"I know. Wake up."

"Don' wanna."

"Don't care. Get up!"

"What? Why?" Vash yawned and opened his eyes, glaring at this intrusion into his slumber. He blinked and glanced at their surroundings. "Knives, why are we in cold storage? We're not allowed down here."

Knives sat back on his haunches. "I don't know how we got here."

Vash sat up, shivering a bit. "My mouth feels all funny."

"Mine does too."

The younger twin seemed to be more alert now and taking better stock of their surroundings. He shifted closer to his brother and seized Knives's hand in his own. "I don't like it down here."

Knives glanced towards the far wall where the ghostly images of human forms could just barely be seen behind frosted glass. With the cool glow coming from blue lights and the shadows cast by the walkway, the storage unit didn't look like a comfortably distant scientific experiment. It looked like a tomb. Knives suppressed a shudder of his own. "Me, neither."

Vash bit his lip. "I want to go back to our quarters."

Knives opened his mouth to answer when a shadow fell over top of them. The boys slowly looked up, then turned their heads to see this new visitor. Knives bit back on his scream.

It smiled. Vash really did scream. That made its grin wider.

"Can't have my bait doing that, can I?"

***

Rem felt as if the world stopped. She couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't even feel her heart beat.

Her boys had been stolen.

She had to face it: she was a failure. She'd failed the boys yet again, failed Angel, failed the colonists. She was the worst Slayer who'd ever lived, the greatest disappointment in the line of Eve. Alex would've hated her.

"HEY!"

The scream in her ear jolted her out of her paralysis. She turned towards a distraught Mary clutching tightly to her arm, leaving painful indents under white-knuckled fingers. The doctor looked paler than usual.

"Rem, where are the twins?"

Not here was the obvious answer but the question brought her back to herself. If whatever it had been had wanted to kill the boys, they wouldn't have bothered to move them. Or at least she hoped they wouldn't – god only knew. But that line of reasoning would get her nowhere. It didn't matter what had brought her to this point, she had no choice but to deal with the situation at hand. And the situation was: find the boys, fix the mistake. That was all that mattered.

She straightened and took Mary's hand from her arm. "I'll find Vash and Knives. I need you to go get Joey, tell him we have an intruder."

"You're going after it yourself?"

"We don't really have any choice." Rem walked back to her room, Mary following behind.

"But what if it's that – that thing that killed Angel?"

"Then it is and I'll deal with it." Where had she left that box? She'd always been so organized but the last few days…

Mary persisted. "Rem, you didn't see it! You can't possibly go after it alone!"

Found it. It'd been shoved under the bed. Rem turned to the slender doctor and gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "I can take care of myself, don't worry."

"This is insane. *You're* insane."

"Then I am."

"At least wait for me to get Joey. Or-or Steve. Or someone. Don't go out there alone."

"And do you want to risk more time we may not have?" Rem asked. Mary grimaced and looked away. Rem placed a hand on her shoulder. "Please trust me. If I find the boys, I'll intercom my position. But I can't take the chance of waiting. Do you understand?"

Mary sighed. "Yeah, I do." She looked Rem eye to eye. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Rem nodded curtly and while Mary looked like she might want to say more, she instead turned and walked back out of the room. Rem hunkered down next to her box again. It was rather simple, maybe a foot long with a polished walnut finish. The only ornamentation was a small, engraved figure on the lower left side of the top that Rem had always thought was a cat. But now that she saw it again, she thought maybe it was a larger animal. A mountain lion perhaps.

She took a deep breath and opened the lid. Nestled within a shaped velvet lining was an elongated piece of wood that tapered to a fine, sharp point. She seized the blunt end before she could re-think her decision and felt a small, betrayed thrill of excitement as she weighed it in her palm.

Perfect fit.

She glared at this reminder of her heritage but knowing the time for recrimination had past.

Time to go get her boys.

***  
  


Mary found herself stumbling for a second time and cursed out a long string of expletives her Uncle Albert had taught her at a highly impressionable age. She stopped to take a breather, leaning heavily against the wall and massaging her pounding temples. Concussion seemed unlikely but her head still ached and she desperately wished for an aspirin.

She recognized part of her reaction as shock. After the initial hysteria, she'd tapered off into a rather dazed, automatic state that had kept her moving but done little else to calm her nerves. She knew once she had the time to look back and reflect on the events of the evening, there'd be a rather large breakdown on her part but for now she just had to keep going. Rem was depending on her. She started moving again.

Oh god, she had tried to seduce Angel.

That really wasn't what she should be thinking of right now, but the scene kept replaying itself in her head. It was, after all, the last time she'd ever see him and it was difficult not to dwell on it.

And now that she did reflect, seduce wasn't the right word. More like she had thrown herself at him. Which she just didn't understand. Sure, she liked to flirt and she'd always had a small thing for the tall, dark and brooding types, but she hadn't ever intended to make a move, to follow through on any of her feelings regardless.

So what had she done? What was *wrong* with her?

Mary didn't even realize she'd arrived at the captain's quarters until she was standing in his bedroom, looking down at an empty bed. In fact, all of his rooms were empty.

Where had everyone gone?

***  
  
  
  


"O'Reilly to Captain Adams. O'Reilly to Captain Adams. Joey, where-"

Rowan cut off the intercom with the flick of the wrist. Mary had sounded high-pitched, upset. He really didn't feel like listening to her whine right now. Not when he had more important things to do.

He looked at the fractals that danced across his screen. He typed in a few commands, made an adjustment here and there, and watched as the patterns shifted, changed, became greater. Some more tests, a few more sims, and they'd be perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Because he was right. He was always right.

***  
  


Steve thought he might have heard Mary over the intercom a little while ago but it'd been so brief he decided he'd just imagined it. He took another swig from his beer and resumed his staring contest.

So far it was Steve: 10, Plant: 0.

He smirked, raising his bottle in toast to the humanoid form hanging just within sight in the bulb.

"Not so smart now, are you?"

The Plant, of course, didn't answer. He grinned.

Yeah, that's right. Who was out here? Who was free? Who was the one making all the rules? Him, that's who, Not some twisted freaks that pretended to look human but were nothing more than tools to be used and discarded. And if those two little shits wanted to act like it was any different, well, he'd show them their proper place. He'd show them all.

Because he was right. He was always right.

***  
  


Joey sat in the captain's chair on the bridge. He'd programmed the froward view screen to its maximum capacity, filled with nothing but stars. It was the closest he'd come to a true spacewalk in some time – physics and light-speed preventing him from experiencing the real thing – and the peace that settled over him was a welcome respite from the chaos of the long journey he'd begun so long ago. Just him breathing and the stars slowly dying. So many already dead in all likelihood, with only the ghosts of their light reaching out to him across the light-years.

He'd never been a particularly poetic man or a truly religious one. But out here he often wondered what was beyond this. Could there be greater meaning to the cosmos than what he imagined?

With the events of the last few days behind him, he felt fairly confident in assuming that there wasn't. No higher purpose, no gentle god leading his people ever onwards. And it wouldn't matter even if there was. They were on their own, eventually forgotten like the dying starlight.

Joey had indeed never cared much for philosophy but he was a soundly practical man most of the time. Except for nights like this, when he turned his intercom off and through the solid walls of the ship below him, his crew slowly fell apart.

***  
  


As she moved further into the ship, Rem realized she had very little idea what she was doing. Adrenaline and sheer stubbornness had kept her going thus far but with the inevitable drawing nigh, she felt the first stirrings of panic settle in. She was no warrior, no savior to look towards, just some simple girl who'd been told all she ever believed in had been wrong.

A child's voice in the back of her head howled at the unfairness of it all. But the faces of her boys sitting so firmly in her mind's eye allowed her to ignore that part of her that wanted to find a deep dark hole to crawl into for the next ten years and continue moving.

She switched the stake to her left hand, wiping her free palm along her jeans and leaving behind a small smear of sweat. She paused, slowing her breathing, allowing her senses to reach out to their fullest extent. She heard and saw nothing more than what she normally would, but when she turned her head, she felt the skin crawl on the back of her neck as the cold storage window came into view. There was nothing outwardly wrong with it but she approached it nevertheless and looked down into the stasis chamber. Within the gloom of the soft lights and flickering shadows, she could just make out two solitary figures lying along one of the walkways.

Vash. Knives.

Rem ran for the lift, nearly breaking the door open herself when the elevator didn't arrive right away. It finally came and she spent an excruciating thirty seconds riding it down toward her missing children.

The cold blast from inside the chamber nearly took her breath away but the sight of the two small bodies across from her sent all caution flying to the wind. She immediately ran towards them, collapsing next to Knives, his pale skin and hair making him appear washed out against the steel gray of the grating. She placed a trembling hand against his throat and released a shuddering breath she didn't even realize she'd been holding as she felt the steady beat of his pulse under her fingers. Vash was breathing as well but both boys had been raggedly cut along their shoulders, blood splattered against the sky blue of their clothing. They would need those wounds attended to.

She was so absorbed in her task that she almost missed the slight flicker to her right. Another hesitation would have cost her dearly had she not ducked at the last second, the claw missing her head by mere centimeters. Six months of training kicked in and she swept her leg behind her, connecting solidly before rolling into a summersault and allowing the momentum to bring her to her feet. She faced her attacker, knowing what to expect, only to find her throat dry upon the sight.

It looked like a damaged angel, something of great beauty that had had its fine features cruelly destroyed. Its eyes bulged too large above sunken cheeks painted with angry splashes of red and a mouth filled with sharp, filed teeth. It had no weight to its body, so far emancipated it appeared as only a skeleton hung together with strips of skin, hands slimmed into claws, feet bent nearly backwards. On its back hung the ruination of wings, slowly rotting even as it flicked them back with an almost arrogant air.

She opened her mouth before she could stop herself. "You're not a vampire."

It smiled, wide and terrible, speaking in a voice the consistency of raw wounds. "No, Slayer. I am Kakos but no nosferatu."

Her mind raced – obviously not what she expected, not at all. Kakos, Greek, it meant – meant –

Something hit her from behind, pinning her to the floor and jamming a knee into the small of her back.

Meant evil.

"My companion, on the other hand," the Kakos continued, "is."

The vampire on her back entwined its fingers into her hair, yanking her head up painfully before slamming it back into the floor. Stars burst in front of her eyes and she struggled to stay conscious as her head was raised for another pounding. Reacting on little more than blind instinct, she reversed her hold on her stake and jammed it back and to the side. Something yielded and the vampire roared, drawing away. It gave her just enough space to wriggle out from underneath it and stagger to her feet, facing this new threat.

The vampire she saw was enormous, nearly towering a foot above her and apparently made of little more than muscle and bloodlust. She saw no intelligence in his eyes, merely brute, animal cunning. She doubted he had walked under his human face in years and with dread, realized that the stake he now pulled out of his side was her only weapon.

The vampire seemed to recognize her panic for he grinned, displaying his fangs for her as he threw the stake behind him and lunged. She sidestepped and sent a quick kick to his mid-section. Before she could hit, he grabbed her foot and sent her crashing to the floor once more. A large, meaty fist came shooting for her head and she rolled, allowing his hand to connect with the metal grate while another roar of pain filled the air. She pulled herself upright only to stumble as her vision threatened to cloud over. Her opponent recovered first and with a slap of his arm sent her careening into the side rails. She landed on her feet only to receive another jab to her jaw.

The Kakos continued to speak as the vampire threw her from one side to another, battering her body into submission.

"Doesn't speak much, does he?" A fist in her gut. "I suspect that so much time in this ship without consistent sustenance has reduced him to little more than a beast. Unpleasant thing, watching a vampire starve yet never die." She blocked his next blow with the outside of her arm and sent a punch out, only to be blocked as well. "Though I doubt he ever had the intelligence to open the meat lockers in here in the first place. He's lucky I awoke from hibernation at all." A kick missed his stomach, landing against his hip instead, throwing both Slayer and vampire off balance. "And, oh, how very lucky of me to do so. Lovely people here, to have such darkness to feed from."

Roundhouse, block, block, block.

"I hardly expected to have that young physicist save me the trouble of manufacturing a flaw when I allowed my friend over there access to the colonists. I thought it would take far more work to spread corruption so thoroughly."

Her guard faltered and another punch sent her reeling.

"Nor to end up killing a Slayer in the process. Did you know she didn't wake once even as she bled away? Not so much as a twitch. Just like those two boys of yours."

She couldn't lose, not now, not with the twins so close, so vulnerable, not when everything was almost over. But as she felt the crack of a rib underneath the unrelenting blows, she knew she would.

"And then, oh, the fears, the desires, the madness you and your friends had to offer when I clawed out of this cold. The only one seemingly without was your late teacher but he's no longer a problem, is he?"

Was Angel dead then? Was this how it was to end? Her mind wandered as she made a half-hearted punch, easily blocked, twice over retaliated.

"I whisper into their ears in the night, a hidden thought brought to light and it was ever so easy to watch you struggle."

Rem fell to the floor, spent, beaten. The vampire backed off by some unseen signal and the Kakos approached her, lifting her by her chin to stare into fathomless eyes.

"How does it feel, little Slayer?" it asked. "To know even with your death, you have failed?"

Her eyes flickered to the vampire behind him and the boys lying further than that. And beyond them all, a hint of movement, a shadow that wasn't. She looked back to her tormentor and croaked, "I'm not dead yet."

Fury came flying at the beast vampire with deadly speed, Angel more than ever resembling his avenging namesake in fists and fangs. The attack was so sudden the other vampire didn't even have time to defend himself, giving Angel the upper hand. Despite his shirt hanging in tatters and the puncture wounds in his chest still not fully healed, he had a manic smug grin spread across his face.

"Word of advice?" her teacher remarked. "Next time you try to kill someone, make sure they aren't already dead first."

The Kakos hissed. "Impossible."

Angel rolled his eyes. "Villainous plan explained *and* overused exclamations. Any other cliches you haven't used yet?"

The Kakos was saved from an answer when its vampire friend chose that moment to re-engage Angel. The distraction allowed Rem a chance to slap away its hand away, shoving it back. She rose, swaying on unsteady legs but facing her opponent with fists raised. Something like a sneer flittered across its face before it lashed out again. Rem ducked and danced around it, avoiding the snarling pair of vampires and placing herself in front of the twins. This only seemed to amuse the Kakos.

"Little Slayer protecting her own?" It punched at her, blocked with her arm. She kicked out, forcing it back but not pressing the advantage. "Playing mother to those without?" Another fist at her head which she dodged, retaliating with a palm to his gut. "As if you could hope to save them. You are nothing, a hypocrite. Why do you bother in this futile effort?"

The question hit so close to home, she could suddenly see it for what it was, a moment of crystal clarity coming on a wave of epiphany.

_what is it you wish daughter_

_"You can't keep avoiding it."_

_                                …out of the mouths of babes…_

_"Killing is still killing, Angel."_

_…a crumbling well and rotted rope…_

_"The colonists *are* the Project!"_

_…blood on fangs…_

_…she wasn't like other girls…_

_decide_

"What's in a name?" Alex once asked her, the memory of his smile whispering softly in her ear. She looked to the Kakos standing across from her, ugly, terrible, cruel, pitiful when it just couldn't understand. She smiled without pain.

"Because," she said, "I should protect this thing."

The Kakos howled and attacked. It moved swiftly, limbs a blur of unspoken fury that fought to penetrate her defenses. But she was herself again, choice giving her all the speed she needed and he could not make her falter. She would push when needed, moving to offense if necessary, but only enough to give her some breathing space and she never once pursued.

"Fight me!"

She shook her head. "No."

The attacks sped up. So did she.

"I'll kill them all!"

"No. You won't."

The veneer of icy intelligence permanently fell and she faced nothing more than a sad, wounded animal which lashed out because there was nothing left for it to do. A kick slipped through to land on her left side but she ignored it and held steadfast. Her muscles ached from blocked blows, bruises no doubt coming in the morning should she survive the night, yet all pain came secondary, a part removed from her, easily dismissed.

A dull rush of wind told her that a vampire had met its end. There was no doubt in her mind that Angel was the one left standing. He was a survivor.

Like her.

A claw raked along her cracked rib. Her forehead trickled blood from a cut. But the Kakos was growing sloppy, the punches coming with less ferocity than before, the kicks all but stopping. Simple exhaustion or something more? Her own strength perhaps, coming out in force, her refusal to acknowledge its power robbing the Kakos of all that held it together.

Evil was only a human made abstract, after all.

She dodged, allowing her leg enough room to trip it up. Although she was ready for it to rise, it never did. She didn't think it ever would again.

She felt rather than saw Angel approach her from behind as she looked on the face of her fallen foe. Lying on its side, breathe coming out in rapid shallow pants, ribs protruding through thin skin, it didn't look so frightening anymore. She knelt beside it and reached out a hand to lay upon its head. It growled and feebly tried to brush off her touch, but it couldn't shake her.

"What did you do?" Angel asked.

"Nothing." She smiled sadly at the Kakos, brushing aside thin hair from its forehead. Clumps had already started to fall out to rest beside her. "It only bore my own fears away."

"I don't understand."

"Honestly? I don't think I do either." The Kakos had stopped breathing and lay inert on the walkway. A lone feather fell from its right wing. She looked up at her friend and mentor, noting the blood that had dried along his torso. "You better go."

He looked down at himself and frowned. "Are you sure?"

Her wounds seemed to come over her all at once, pain and exhaustion pressing heavily upon her, but she still managed a small smile. "Mary saw you die. It'll be hard to explain anything else to her."

Angel hesitated, but nodded his understanding. "Take care."

"I will." She shifted slightly, pressing against her wounded rib. She hissed, looking down for only a moment, but when she turned her attention upwards again he was already gone and Knives had started to stir. She allowed her gaze to travel over the Kakos a final time, before dragging herself towards the intercom.

"Saverem to O'Reilly." Her voice sounded so old. "I've found them."

***  
  
  


"…better go."

_Go?_

"…sure?"

"…saw you die…explain anything…"

"Take care."

_Angel?_

It was with some relief that Knives woke in a bed this time but he felt little better than when he awoke in cold storage. His shoulder ached and when he rolled over, his head started pounding. His eyes flicked open, Rem the first sight to greet him.

She looked awful. Her face was mottled with bruises, a cut stitched up on her forehead and lip split open. When she moved it was stiff, awkward, and he could see additional bruising all along her arms with two fingers on her left hand splintered together. Despite all this, she smiled when she saw his attention on her.

She reached out a hand. "Hey."

The boy tried to sit up on his own but found himself struggling. Mary suddenly materialized opposite Rem to help him readjust his position. The doctor looked better than the black-haired woman but had a bruise on her forehead as well and she appeared unusually pale underneath her freckles.

"Don't push yourself," Mary chided gently. "You've been through a lot in the past few days."

Knives grimaced. "Where's Vash?" Rem gestured across his body and he turned to see Vash sleeping peacefully in a cot next to him. He suddenly realized they were in the med bay. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine, sweetie. Just resting."

Knives bit his lip as he looked at her injuries. "Are – are you okay, Rem?"

"No," she answered honestly. "But I'll be fine. Don't worry about me, you just get better."

He nodded before realizing someone was missing. "Where's Angel?"

Mary stiffened, trading an unreadable look with Rem. The doctor placed her hand over her mouth before abruptly turning away and walking off to busy herself at her desk. Rem swallowed, blinking back tears. "Knives, Angel, he's…"

The Plant child couldn't see what had upset her so. "I-I heard him. Isn't he here? Doesn't he want to see me?"

"Oh, Knives." She took him into her arms, her embrace warm and open. "Angel's gone."

Realization came and Knives felt his world forever change. "No. He was here. I know it."

She shushed him and stroked his hair, rocking him gently. "Oh, honey, I wish he was but he's not. I'm so very, very sorry."

Grief was a new experience for the young boy and it was something else he found he disliked greatly. Rem continued to sooth him as he grabbed onto her as a sinking man to a life preserver. She whispered words of sorrow in his ear while the tears he struggled to stop fell.

Yet, despite Rem's real grief and his own woe, that small, detached piece of himself which had had so many questions of late knew what he had heard, knew that Angel had spoken.

And knew that Rem lied.

***  
  


The questions were many and Rem's explanations terse but with Mary backing up her story of an unknown saboteur and a few well-chosen words directed at Rowan implying he might want to think about re-checking his calculations, the ship returned to normal. Or as normal as it could be under the circumstances, the loss of a crewmember casting a shadow over them all.

A week passed before Rem could slip out of her quarters undetected, stealing silently through the darkened ship down to the landing bay. She walked carefully through the emergency escape pods that just a few days ago had all but been put to the test and now lay fallow once more.

"Angel?" She spoke softly although there appeared no need to do so. "Are you here?"

"Rem."

She jumped, prepared for his voice but startled all the same. He stepped out of the shadows, melting smoothly from dark to light. He had changed into a flight suit and the slight tint to his cheeks told her he'd managed a raid on the medical cabinet without Mary noticing.

"You're terrible about sneaking up on people," she told him.

"You're wearing a dress," he answered. She looked down at her outfit, a simple sundress that fell short of her knees, and blushed, straightening the skirt to give her hands something to do.

"Well, what of it?"

"Just unusual, that's all." He smiled. "You ought to do it more often."

She flustered right up and turned her attention to one of the escape pods, keeping her eyes firmly on the keypad. "I, ah, I've programmed the capsule to fire automatically if something happens to the ship. Just, um, just in case anything – anything happens."

"Rem." His hand on her shoulder and suddenly she was looking right at him, faces close, a hair's breadth apart. He'd always been so awfully handsome, with that quirky smile and eyes that had seen so much and lips that were just the right type of kissable, which she found out for certain for herself as she placed her mouth against his.

The kiss deepened, drawing them closer as his arms encircled her waist and she ran a hand through his hair. For the moment of contact, they were no longer student and teacher, Slayer and Watcher, human and vampire, just a man and a woman breaching a chasm that no longer seemed so wide.

Then biology cut in and Rem had to break it off to catch her breath. When she opened her eyes to look into Angel's equally serious gaze, the absurdity of the situation hit them both and the only solution was to laugh. They rested their foreheads against each other, grinning ruefully.

"Did you really wear that dress for me?"

"Yes. Do you purposely sneak up on me just to keep me unbalanced?"

"Yes."

"We're quite a pair, aren't we?"

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "But doomed from the start."

Her grin faltered but she felt no regret. "I suppose so."

He placed a palm against her cheek, tone turning serious. "Will you be alright? Truly?"

"Yeah, I will."

"You know that demon didn't actually create any of the thoughts within the crew, right? That all of those feelings still exist?"

"I know, I know. I'll be careful."

He drew her closer, the embrace no longer charged but the normal, comfortable hold of an old friend. "I just want you to be safe."

"I know." She drew back and gave him a reassuring smirk. "And I will be. I'm the Slayer, remember?"

"Are you?"

"Yes. I'm just not a killer." She placed a finger against his mouth before he could speak. "I'm at peace with my decision, Angel. I'll manage."

He nodded and glanced at the awaiting shuttle. "So, this is it."

"Yeah, I guess it is." She typed in the opening command on the keypad, opening the door for him. "You know how to run the stasis pod in there?"

"Yeah. I've had plenty of practice."

"Okay."

"Okay."

They hugged again to fill the sudden silence, then separated without a word. He stepped back into the pod opening, giving her curt nod. She smiled briefly, readying herself. He had already reached for the interior console when she blurted out, "Angel?"

He paused. "Yeah?"

She suddenly realized she had no idea what she had wanted to say and asked the first thing that popped into her mind. "What was your name?"

He blinked. "You know my name."

"I know Angel and Angelus. But what was it before? When you were human?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Just something I always wanted to know."

He hesitated and she wondered if he'd answer. But he finally said, "Liam. It used to be Liam."

"Liam," she repeated and he frowned.

"You don't like it."

"No, I-I do." And that was the truth. She smiled. "It seems to suit you."

"Really?" He looked surprised by that revelation.

"Really."

He swallowed that for another moment before giving her a smile in return. "I'm glad."

"Me, too."

He raised a hand, palm out, an old fashioned and oddly formal farewell. "Goodbye, Rem."

"Goodbye, Angel."

He keyed in the final sequence and the shuttle door slid shut with a soft clang that echoed through the open interior of the shuttle bay.

It was the last time they would ever see each other.

END PART THREE


	5. Epilogue: What You are Reprise

EPILOGUE

_The desert for the final time, twisted trees casting intricate shadows upon the dusty earth. The First sits upon the cliff's edge, looking towards the sunset, stiff, unmoving. Rem knows she will not speak this time._

_She hears a grunt and the singular thud as flesh meets ground. She turns towards the noise and spies two figures under the shadow of the mighty stone. One is small, slight, a flash of sunlight in shadow, clad in white._

_Slayer._

_The other is not tall but muscular under black and red, hair the color of bleached bone, eyes cool as sky blue. She wants to weep at the sight of him, this man who is not a man, who looks so much like her boy, who could be her boy one day._

_Vampire._

_She walks towards them, measured steps even on sinking sand. The combatants take no notice of her until she is right next to them, halting the forward momentum of the Slayer's stake as it is about to plunge into her enemy's heart. The two women stare at each other for a moment, amber eyes to green, before green looks away and releases her hold on the stake. Rem turns to the vampire, looks at him with a Slayer's senses and sees only haunted beauty. She forgives him._

_"William." Rem names him, weary but not unkind. "There are matters to discuss."_

_He nods and oh, for a moment he is Knives, grown up and cruel. Yet the boy is also there, hidden deep, frightened still of the world, smiling at her shyly and obeying her orders without question. She watches him leave until he is no more than a speck on the red horizon. The sun, she notices, has not moved since she arrived._

_She once more meets the eyes of her sister in blood and bond. The blonde girl is much younger than she is, but the power in her small frame is nearly tangible in the air around them. Rem knows of others who have had this gift, names of myth and legend, called Artemis and Kali and Morgana by civilizations long dead. This girl is not one of those but her name is close at hand all the same._

_"Buffy."_

_Buffy tilts her head to the side, squinting, lines smoothing away as recognition dawns. "Rem."_

_In another time and place, Rem would be surprised by this acknowledgement from a woman long dead, but here, under the watch of the First, this comes as no surprise at all._

_Buffy continues, annoyed. "You took my stake."_

_Rem looks down at the wooden shaft in her hand. "You would have killed him."_

_"He's a vampire. It's what we're supposed to do."_

_"So they say."_

_"So it is. And I kinda want my weapon back."_

_"To kill him?"_

_Buffy rolls her eyes and looks at Rem as if she were a petulant child. "Well, duh."_

_"Then I think I'll keep it instead."_

_"I could just go get another one," Buffy points out. "Not exactly hard to find, even in the middle of nowhere."_

_"Well, I'll just have to take it away again."_

_Buffy places her hands on her hips, angry, speaking with contempt. "You don't know anything about being a Slayer."_

_Rem frowns and stares at the ground, shamed in front of this small, slight girl who stands barely to her shoulder, the predecessor that has been so highly praised and loved. She thinks of the First sitting still above them, the eyes of obsidian that watch but do not tell. It comes to her then, something that has always been inside yet owns no piece of her_

_"In a desert, I came upon a well. I drank from it until it ran dry and my thirst was quenched. But the desert lasted forever and I had no water left." Her voice hardens, resolved with truth. "I am not a well. I am a desert. And I have no need for water."_

_Buffy glares at her. "Deserts are hard and dry."_

_"Yet they survive. And so will we and so it continues." Rem's voice but not her words as the *more* speaks through, around, over, with her. "The ticket to the future is always open."_

_"But we already have a destiny."_

_"And whether or not we accept it changes it," Not-Quite-Rem says. She looks towards the setting sun. It has begun to move. "I love and am loved. I accept that. I embrace it."_

_"Love is pain." Harsh, cold words from such a warm, powerful girl._

_Not-Quite-Rem only looks at her sadly and hands her the stake. "Then this is all that is left. Turned toward you or away, it doesn't matter anymore."_

_Buffy turns the stake over in her hands, examining it, possibly wondering if Rem has bewitched it, turned it against her in some way. She appears confused. "You can't save them all."_

_"I can try."_

_"Or die in the process."_

_"Maybe." Rem smiles, bright, brilliant and it's all her. "Or maybe I'll live."_

_Rem turns her back on the golden girl, too blinded by her own light to see that she is no longer in the dark, and walks towards the sunset, the last rays splashing the sky with a rainbow of pinks and blues and golds. It will be, she thinks, a lovely evening._

_She doesn't look back._

FIN

***************  
  
  


WHAT'S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT:

_Acknowledgements, Thanks, and Assorted Author Ramblings_

Botany.com and Occultopedia.com provided great assistance in the research portion of this piece. Credit is also due Cadence, who was the first person (or at least the first I know of) to translate Rem's name from Latin to English. And she was right – there's a significance there that's tough to ignore.

In Part One, the bedtime story is the last line of Mark Twain's "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn."

The Kakos Daimon – or the Cacodemon in its Anglicized form – is a real mythological figure. According to Roman and Babylonian lore, every man is born with two spirits, one good (the agthodemon), one evil (the cacodemon). They act in the same metaphorical capacity as the devils and angels that sit on your shoulder in the cartoons and in fact when the cacodemon was absorbed into Christian mythology, it actually did become a fallen angel, trapped between heaven and hell, forever tempting man.

Thanks to my reviewers: Gochan, Genjo, Grey, nick wolf, and silver tears. I'm glad you all have made it this far.

Thanks to Jaina for once again betaing and pointing out that even in space, plot holes do exist.

There always seemed to be a lot going in this story. In some ways, it felt like I was working with entirely original characters as the SEEDS crew only appeared in one episode of the anime series and never got any particular development. There were questions that needed answering, like what the heck did Rem actually *do* on the ship other than act really sweet and be something for Vash to angst over later on? What did any of the crew do for that matter? And why exactly was it that they all seemed to go collectively insane in episode 17?

Some of the characters were more demanding than others. Steve was still a major jerk, but Mary had a wicked sense of humor and Rowan, the little twitch monkey, was surprisingly vocal about getting proper screen time. Joey was in absentia but since that seemed to be a major failing of his overall (there were only seven people on the ship – how could he *not* know what was going on?) this came as no surprise to me. And Rem – well, Rem was Rem. This was her story and she seemed to enjoy the ride.

(Side note: since his soul's currently gone, Angelus didn't do much beyond smirk and mock my fashion sense. I told him I wasn't writing about him anyway, so what did I care? He's been in a snit since).

I think I've grown as a writer over the course of this tale and feel I've definitely improved since beginning this series with "Night" in 2001 (and, yes, I'm amazed it's been that long, too). Overall, it's been an enjoyable experience.

Not to say there wasn't a good deal of frustration either. Since starting the series, I've grown less enamored of "Buffy" as a whole. Season Five had its flaws but ended well. However, Season Six was just dreadful to watch. The writing was still excellent (often brilliant) but the characters became deeply unlikable and 'Seeing Red' nearly threw me off the bandwagon all together. Season Seven seems more on track but the damage has been done. A previously fantastic show with moments of mediocrity has become an average show with moments of greatness. There's still enough to like and enough misplaced loyalty for me to continue watching, but I'll be happy to see it put to rest after this season. And that type of response really doesn't inspire the muse a whole lot.

That said, I'm taking a break for a while.

The next, and final, portion of 'Night' is stuck. I know it takes place mostly in present day (meaning, yes, Buffy and the Scoobies will play an active role), I know how it begins and I'm pretty sure how it ends, but everything in between is still deeply muddled. I'm also looking to expand my horizons a little. "Charmed," for reasons I have yet to fully understand, seems to have pissed me off enough that I want to play in that universe for a bit. "Slayers" and "Inuyasha" also seemed to have bred some plot bunnies while HBO Original Series seem intent on swallowing my life. On top of that, I have a heavier class schedule and I've rediscovered my inner bibliophile after a long period of dormancy.

Will I return to "Trigun" at all? Absolutely. 'Walking Out' still needs to be typed up, and 'One Night Stand' is starting to look sequel bound. But I need some distance, some time to recharge. This has long been my most vocal fandom and I'm glad to be here, but I've found myself getting tired of it and that means it's time to take a step back and re-examine how much longer I want to stick around. It's been good for me but even too much of a good thing can be bad.

So for those who are still reading, thanks for everything. It's been great and I've had fun.

Ending the longest author's notes ever…

-Irena


End file.
